"I'll lose control." This time, he doesn't slip up. No it he'll lose control of, just himself. And shouldn't that be enough of an explanation? It should be. That's already bad, that can already hurt people. It won't impale them and tear them apart, though.

Gnawing on his lips again, he slips off and turns his back towards Jade, pills hidden in his fist. He's gotten cold. It's not the cold he's used to, more like swallowing a frozen block of lead. It's hell on his worn-out body, every bruise a source of heat amidst the cold. Head hammering, Shinjirou closes his eyes and slowly reclines. "If you want to keep using me the way you do now, you can't take them. Even if it takes weeks or months or a whole year, something bad's gonna happen."